


Mother's Day

by shrikehargrove



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Billy Hargrove Needs Love, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Billy Hargrove is a Mess, One Shot, Pre-Season/Series 03, Season 2 Billy Hargrove, Short One Shot, Stranger Things 2, This poor boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrikehargrove/pseuds/shrikehargrove
Summary: Mother's Day is a fun celebration for most people on Earth, but not so much for the kids who haven't seen their mother in 7 years. Billy Hargrove knows the feeling all too well, he has to face it every single year with his deadbeat dad who doesn't hold the same sorrowful sentiment that he does.Gotta let it out somehow.or: Billy Hargrove misses his mother on Mother's Day.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Mother's Day

**Author's Note:**

> I am far from an author but this is dedicated to Nora, who came up with this idea (I just added a lil' spice)!
> 
> (love u <3)

Every year got easier, but the pain was never gone. Billy Hargrove, the abandoned child, sat on his bed staring at the white phone situated on his bedside table. Would she ever pick up?

_Why did she never pick up?_

His mother had left him so long ago and for some reason – unknown to himself – he still longed for her to come back for him and sweep him in her arms and tell him he was okay. The two days that hurt him the most every single year were Mother’s Day and her birthday. Neil laughed at his dedication to remembering the exact dates still, he laughed at the fact Billy sat on his bed every Mother’s Day and chewed on his nails and stared at the phone.

Billy even raised the phone to his ear, remembering the way he’d done the same as a 10-year-old child.

“Who are you calling?” Neil leaned against the door frame, his posture perfect and his demeanour ready to attack.

“Just… my friend.” He lied through loosely gritted teeth.

“Why on Earth would your friend want to hang out with you today?” he chuckled, but it sounded more like the wheeze of a man who smokes as a religion. “It’s Mother’s Day, and he probably has a decent reason to celebrate, unlike you.”

“I was just wondering if he’d be free later, is that a crime?” Billy bit back.

“You have a mother in the living room who, I’m sure, would very much appreciate a few kind words from her step-son.”

“She isn’t my mom.” He muttered.

“What was that?”

“ _She_ is not my mother. She’s _your_ new wife.” Billy repeated, slower this time.

“She is just as much your mother as the whore who left you seven years ago, William.” Neil spat, stepping into Billy’s room and approaching him with haste.  
He grabbed his son’s collar and lifted him off the bed, causing him to drop the phone that was loose in his palm.

“Stop calling your bitch of a mother and go celebrate your new one.” His tone lowered and sharpened, ripping through Billy’s layers and piercing his heart.

There was a painful moment of tension before Neil slowly released his grasp and allowed Billy the space to walk past him into the living room. The boy’s knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists with a toxic mix of anger and anxiety. He trudged into the living room with his father’s shadow lurking over him from behind, making sure he doesn’t “step out of line”.

Once throwing himself onto one of the single-seater chairs in the living room, Billy sighed. Neil sat next to his new dime-piece wife and flashed a tight-lipped smile. He then turned to his “failure” and furrowed his brow while tilting his head ever-so-slightly.

“Do you remember what day it is today, Billy?” He turned up the sweetness in hopes that Susan would turn a blind eye to the ruckus in her step-son’s room just moments earlier.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Susan.” With a resigned tone, he gave his father what he wanted. Or so he thought.

“Is that all? That’s all you’re going to give her?”

“Neil, it’s fine –” Susan began, immediately being cut off.

“No, no it’s not fine,” he glared holes into Billy’s eyes, not even giving a thought to reassuring his wife rather than himself. “Poor Susan has to put up with all of your bullshit and you still treat her as if she’s the reason for all of your problems. That is absolutely unacceptable.”

Billy took a moment to think. When you’re constantly walking on eggshells like him, you have to think things through before you blurt the first thing on your mind. His gaze locked itself on Susan’s eyes, while hers darted around in a panic.

“I hope he doesn’t ruin your day for you.” With that, Billy stood up as fast as possible before Neil could whip back at him or grab his wrist and keep him in place.  
“William James Hargrove you get back here right fucking now!” Neil shouted, his voice becoming raspy and aggressive at the snap of a finger, or in this case, the slam of a front door.

In his signature denim jacket, Billy stormed down the stairs of the porch and clambered his way into his Camaro, letting the engine roar and rip out of the driveway before Neil chased him away.

He ended up reaching a road on the outskirts of town, far enough away that he wouldn’t be seen by random bystanders. The last thing he needed was some hick-town teens tattling about how Billy Hargrove isn’t the tough boy he cracks himself up to be.

On the trip to wherever-he-was, he didn’t notice the music that was blasting itself out of the radio, but as soon as he pulled over and the low hum of his car became less noticeable, his breath hitched.

_Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you_  
_Caught up in circles…_

Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper. Ever since he first heard it, he despised it. He used the excuse that it was “what pussies listen to when they can’t get it up” and laughed at people who didn’t feel the same. In reality, it was so much deeper than a sexually frustrated teen, it was almost a sign from his mother to him.

All it did was remind him of his mother’s warmth, the reassurance that she’d give him if he didn’t quite catch a wave, the gentle embrace that he so dearly missed for the past eight years.

_Flashback, warm nights  
Almost left behind  
Suitcase of memories…_

He imagined his mother humming it to him, despite its release being _years_ after she abandoned him. Tears silently welled in his eyes and his now-trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as he rested his head on it. The tears came pouring once the chorus hit.

_If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting  
Time after time…_

The calming vocals were almost drowned out by the sobs and weeps escaping Billy’s lips. The song described so perfectly everything he had wanted, everything he wished for on every birthday since his tenth. Whenever the candles began to erupt in smoke and the wax melted into his store-bought cake, he prayed that his mother would just rock up at his doorstep and take him back to California.  
He hoped that she was doing well, and that maybe if Billy called every year… maybe she’d finally pick up.

For a woman who constantly told him she’d be there for him and be right beside him every step of the way, why was she nowhere to be found?


End file.
